Punched
by RedandLizzie
Summary: Based on a discussion and prompt on tumblr where Liz hits Red. Also, Liz demands the respect she deserves. Story changes to mature rating in Chapter 4.
1. Chapter 1

**Punched**

**Summary: **Based on a discussion and prompt on Tumblr where Liz hits Red.

**Notes: **The punch will occur in Chapter 2.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own The Blacklist or any of these wonderful characters. The brilliant Jon Bokenkamp and NBC do. This is a transformative work and no money is being made from this story.

* * *

Liz wakes to the harsh morning sun shining through the bare windows of her apartment and she squeezes her eyelids as tightly shut as possible. She had left the windows cracked, still trying to air out the ever lingering smell of the freshly painted walls and she hears the laughter of small children in the park across the street. She opens her eyes and the bright glow assaults her so she turns to face the opposite direction while pulling up the blankets and curling into their warmth.

She could kick herself for throwing out the old blinds after painting the room a few weeks ago, and she's now desperate to purchase and hang bedroom curtains. She's had precious little free time though; work and the need for Raymond Reddington's assistance on the latest case has her up at all hours and driving all over D.C., Georgetown, and Arlington. She understands why Red can't stay in one place long, but his routine of no routine has caught up with her. She's never been a morning person and she is so incredibly tired of being tired; but, more than anything, she feels angry.

Her alarm clock, an iPod docked in a Bose speaker in the living room, turns on and she hears Lauryn Hill's unplugged performance of "I Gotta Find Peace Of Mind" for what has to be the hundredth time. She listens to the husky and sometimes hoarse version of the song and Red's face appears in her mind at the very moment Lauryn sings, "I just can't believe that you, would have anything to do; With someone so insecure, someone so immature; Oh you inspire me, to be the higher me." She scoffs then scowls and kicks her covers away before sitting and swinging her legs over the side of the bed.

Elizabeth Scott does not want to go to work today. Elizabeth Scott does not want to see Raymond Reddington today. Elizabeth Scott wants to go to Pottery Barn and buy those damn curtains she's been looking at on-line for the past month then she wants to eat lunch at The Cheesecake Factory before returning home and struggling to hang said curtains.

She gets up and moves quickly across the cold hardwood floor to the even colder tile of the adjoining bathroom. She tugs her t-shirt over her head, dropping it to the floor, then shimmies out of her panties before stepping into the walk-in shower. She stands to the side of the spray waiting for the water to warm and sighs trying to fabricate enough will power to make it through the day.

Liz knows the cause of her disinclination. She's enjoyed Red's company for quite some time; the way they can simply sit together without the need for words. She takes comfort in his presence, finding herself relaxing when her muscles are otherwise seemingly constantly taught. As she steps into the hot water she exhales a long shaky breath. Something has changed though. Something she understands but doesn't want to admit to. When their together, she catches herself watching his mouth as he speaks, analyzing the movements of his lips. She finds those lips even more fascinating than his eyes most of the time. There's something about hearing his voice and watching his mouth work that steals her focus.

Two weeks ago, while they sat next to each other in the back of a law school auditorium during an open lecture on American foreign policy in West Africa, she found herself turning in her seat and leaning forward. She was only a couple of inches away from his face when she felt his warm breath, causing her eyes to bounce from his mouth to his eyes. His gaze was set on her and she saw a glimpse of surprise before his expression returned to that calm deliberating mask. She didn't move for several seconds wondering what he would do; wondering what she would do. A cough from a student sitting far below had jostled her back to reality and she slowly moved until her shoulders were planted firmly against her seat. It took her another minute before she realized her hand was on his thigh. When she began to move her fingers, before raising her palm to pull away, he covered her hand with his own. They remained that way, his hand resting on hers, until the lecture was over fifteen minutes later. She had paused briefly, staring at their hands, before rising and leaving without so much a look or word in his direction. That night she dreamt of Raymond Reddington's touch. It was not the first time, but it was the most erotic.

As she washes her hair she knows this - her entire life revolves around him now. Her thoughts revolve around him as well. She doesn't like that. She doesn't like that at all. He helps her with cases but he gives her no information with regards to whatever it is he's up to. Last week, after they met late one evening at the hat shop he frequents, she noticed his predatory approach was back with a vengeance, his eyes never leaving hers, his touches in slightly more inappropriate places and lingering a little too long. While she was driving home that evening, she realized he was trying to seduce her. It was another day before she came to the conclusion she was doing nothing to thwart his attempts. She's not sure if she likes the thought or not. Most of the time she finds she doesn't mind. At this moment, she hates the very idea.

After dressing, she walks to her kitchen and eats a cup of yogurt without being aware of taste. She spots the job application on her bar and picks it up before letting it slide through her fingers. By happenstance, one of Red's contacts, the owner of an elite private security company, had offered her a job three days earlier. She was still thinking about the opportunity a more regular job would offer. She would be able to continue to use her profiling skills, get paid a good deal more, and be in far less danger than working with Reddington and the FBI. She walks to her computer, prints her resume, and attaches the document to the completed application. There's no question as to whether she will get the job; it's hers for the taking.

She mutters to herself. She can't be late for work. Cooper had been on a tear as of late and she didn't want to be on the receiving end of his comments about devotion to work and arriving on time despite working sixteen hours the previous day. Liz sees Red's face again and then imagines the motion of his body as he moves ever gracefully about. Her skin crawls then goosebumps appear and she doesn't understand the physical reaction; why the very thought of him nearly drives her mad.

Liz has resigned herself; she will spend the entire day counting down the hours and tasks at hand until she's free to go home. She loves her job and made it her life as her marriage crumbled. That was fine for weeks which quickly became months, but it's not fine any longer. Red's there now, in the corners of rooms where he's not even present; she feels his gaze when there's no way he could be watching. She sighs. Maybe today she'll have time to pick up the window coverings.

She knows she will see him today. He will track her down or summon her and then stare at her in that unwavering way which will make her drop her eyes and cause the heat to spread from her abdomen throughout her entire body. Red's been protective of her since the last incident with Tom and she shakes her head, pushing that horrible day out of her mind. Red's people and their supervision of her was getting on her last nerve. She had learned some tricks of her own and had lost them on three occasions over the last week which resulted in immediate calls from Red inquiring about her whereabouts in a patient calm tone. "I'm doing this for your protection, Lizzie. Until he leaves the country or is in custody, you are his primary target. Now, tell me where you are."

Her biggest fear is the realization that he wants her in a way she isn't prepared for. She knew from the beginning she was a pawn in his game, but something has changed. She's almost certain he's trying to bring down the last few bricks of her wall, pull her into his life but leave her out of his world. This scares her because she doesn't know him; she does know him, but not really, and it's not fair to be his when he will never be hers.

At times, she thinks he knows all of her, down to every last minute detail. This is what he does not know - Elizabeth Scott will never be his; her resolve will never waiver against him. She will always, always, remain a hare's breath away from him; no matter how much it breaks her in the process.

Elizabeth Scott does not want to go to work today, but more than that, Elizabeth Scott does not want to see Raymond Reddington today.


	2. Chapter 2

**Punched - Chapter 2**

**Summary:** Liz punches Red.

**Notes:** I apologize for using the "f" word. I usually find this type of language crude and unnecessary but it seems to fit in this instance.

* * *

Red calls just before three, requesting her presence at an estate southwest of the city. She swears to herself in frustration. It will be at least a two hour drive.

When she pulls through the private gate, she grips her steering wheel in wonder. The grounds are exquisite and it appears the house in the distance is even more alluring.

After ringing the doorbell, a tiny man in uniform answers the door. "Miss Elizabeth, I presume?"

Liz nods.

"Mr. Reddington has been expecting you. Please go down the hall and through the second door on your left. I've just served tea. Dinner will be ready in a couple of hours. You like duck, I'm told?"

She looks down at the man in response, wondering what the hell all of this is about. "Duck is fine. Thank you."

He gives her a brief smile before scurrying away.

As Liz enters what she discovers to be the library, she notices Dembe standing at a large arched window watching a small group of tiny colorful birds around a feeder full of black oil sunflower seeds. Red is speaking on the phone in a rather dramatic way, using what she's pretty sure is a Chinese dialect. He gives her a brief nod when they make eye contact then picks up a biscuit from the tray, dipping it in his tea.

She sits at the opposite end of the small leather couch and busies herself with fixing a cup of the steaming hot beverage. It's green and she can smell a hint of peppermint; the two sugar cubes quickly dissolve as she swirls her spoon and when she takes a sip, the liquid tastes like heaven. Her stomach growls, the yogurt from breakfast long gone. She eats a cookie, then a biscuit, and finally two more cookies before Red snaps the phone closed, tossing it to Dembe who leaves quietly shutting the door behind him.

"How are you, Lizzie?"

She frowns at him. "Um. Fine. Please tell me you've called me here for a reason other than having tea."

He chuckles and it pisses her off to no end. He has no clue of the troubles of everyday life.

"What the hell is this about, Red?"

He gives her a subtle grin, appearing quite pleased with himself. "Dinner, Lizzie, and time away from the hustle and bustle of city life."

She sighs, dropping her chin nearly to her chest in exasperation, before speaking quietly, "I've worked sixty hours this week; driven around six hundred miles, not including this trip I might add… for you to have me come here for what, on a whim, I suppose? And now I get to drive for at least two hours back to D.C. only to get up at dawn to go to work tomorrow. Lovely."

"It's Friday, Lizzie."

"I work most Saturday's, Red."

"By choice."

Her voice takes on notable irritation. "No, by necessity, because I'm at the beck and call of the Concierge of Crime."

"Well, you'll already have the good fortune of being here with me when I need you tomorrow."

"Red, I can't stay here. Look, if you don't have something for me, I'm going to go. I'm tired. It's been an exhausting week. I have a stack of laundry half as tall as I am and I would like to be able to work on my apartment this weekend."

"You're having dinner with me, Lizzie, and a room has been prepared for you. Think of this as a short country holiday. I'm certain you'll enjoy the marble soaker tub and the French bubble bath. There's also a pair of elegant Shimera silk pajamas - they match your eyes perfectly and will feel incredibly sensuous as they move across your skin."

The anger that had been building in her over the last week came to a head. She thought of throwing her cup and saucer into the unlit fireplace but remembered that tiny little man who had answered the door - he would be the one to clean up the mess, not Red.

She sat the delicate cup down on the tea service and stood before picking up her purse, all the while glaring down at him. She nearly yelled, "You have no right," before pausing to lower her voice, "When we first met, you said we were a team, but you don't treat me like… you never have."

Red's eyes bore into hers and she watched as his jaw went from slack to rigid. She had his attention, all of it, for what she felt was the first time in weeks. "Most of the time I feel like I'm your whore… but it's the FBI who pays me for servicing you instead of you having to give up the cash yourself."

The quiet rage that flashed across his face made her take a small step back before the thought of him being mad infuriated her. "Why the hell are you upset? You're the john, Red, I'm the prostitute you use every day. Don't you dare do something like this again."

As she moved for the door, she felt a rush before hearing movement and knew he was coming toward her. Before she had time to think, her training kicked in and she dropped her elbow, hitting him in the stomach, then turned and punched him in the face. It was a glancing blow, but it still knocked his head down and to the side.

He moved more quickly than she thought possible and grabbed her wrists, placing them behind her back before pressing his body into hers. "Lizzie, you're only recourse is a headbutt and I assure you I will handle that far better than you."

She met his eyes and gritted her teeth, not quite believing she had actually struck him. Her fingers and wrist ached though and she noticed the pink on his cheek where she had grazed him. His eyes were dark, inflamed, and she swallowed hard. She knew she should be afraid, she knew what he was capable of, but the hate she felt for him at the moment far outweighed her flight response.

His tone took on it's lowest octave and he spoke slowly. "Are you quite done? Of course, if it will make you feel better, please do hit me again, but be mindful of the teeth. I've never lost one and would like to keep them intact."

Liz struggled against his hold, quickly realizing she was powerless in his grasp. "Let me go!"

Red released her left hand but firmly held on to her dominant one, thusly giving her some freedom but still keeping her under his control. She jerked her hand trying to wring it free but he maintained his grip.

"Careful, Lizzie, we don't want a bruise. Now, breathe. Slow and deep. Calm yourself."

Liz bit out, "Fuck you."

His hold on her tightened and he took half a step closer as his eyes bounced back and forth between hers. She had never seen him this vexed and when he spoke his voice sounded like gravel. "Oh sweetheart, you see, that's the root of the problem. That's precisely what you want and need."

Liz shoved him hard with her left hand then put her shoulder into the motion causing him to release his grip. She backed away, not stopping until her shoulders made contact with the door in a thud. The humiliation she felt at his words made her cheeks burn fire hot and she shook her head back and forth several times. Her voice broke when she spoke, "You… you don't know what I want and it's obvious you don't understand what I need."

She watched the muscle below his eye twitch as the seconds beat on and he remained silent. Suddenly an onslaught of emotion hit her hard and she realized she had used her anger to wrap up everything she had been feeling. Her head bowed and she felt nauseous. The adrenalin from their altercation and carbohydrates she had eaten were affecting her blood sugar.

Liz reached for the doorknob and saw his eyes divert momentarily to her hand. She closed her eyes briefly, finding it more difficult to stand with each passing second. She found her voice, small as it was and said, "I apologize for hitting you. I hope you believe me when I say it wasn't intentional."

As she pulled the door open, he spoke in a soft concerned voice. "Lizzie, we need to talk."

His eyes danced across her face and she wondered what she was giving away and tried to mask her emotions. She shook her head. "There's nothing to say. I don't expect you to care but I do expect you to show me respect. Unless you're willing to give up some control, I'm not doing this any longer. It's that simple, and ultimately that difficult. Either we're a team or were not. And given your obvious lack of trust in me, I'm betting this is over."

As she walked away and through the front door, she felt the burn of tears but refused to let them fall. She drove without emotion or much thought and stopped at a Denny's an hour down the road. She ate a hamburger and found some solace in a chocolate shake, but found herself crying uncontrollably once she returned to her car. Losing what she thought she had with Tom had been difficult, but losing Red was far worse than she could have ever imagined.

She spotted Red's people as they pulled into the parking lot and quickly wiped her eyes. It had taken them longer than she had expected to find her. She picked up her phone and hit speed dial two. When Dembe answered she told him, "Tell Red to call them off. If I need his assistance with Tom, I will be in contact."

"Agent Scott, you need to speak with him yourself. Hold on."

"Dembe, I trust you to deliver the message." She hit end and tossed her phone onto the back seat. She waited, watching the black SUV. This was her first test for him. If he failed, she would turn in her resignation to Cooper on Monday.

Her eyes fell to the clock on her dash. Within two minutes, the SUV left turning in the direction from which it came.

With rush hour Friday night traffic in full force, it took her another hour and a half before she made it home. She walked straight to her bedroom and began to strip off her clothing, leaving it on the floor. She brushed her teeth and tugged on a t-shirt before turning off her alarm clock and putting her phone on silent. Liz was taking the entire weekend off come hell or high water.

As she collapsed onto the bed she heard her phone vibrate and answered after seeing the blocked I.D., knowing full well it was Red. "Hello."

"Lizzie."

She closed her eyes.

"You've made it home safely?"

"Yes."

"I've pulled my men off the detail, per your wishes, but I fear for your safety. Is your weapon close by?"

"Yes."

"Lizzie, always be prepared. Never let your guard down. He will come for you, it's only a matter of time."

She fell silent. She understood the danger she was in. Tom had made one very serious attempt on her life and if she hadn't been wearing the vest a few weeks ago, she would be dead.

"Lizzie."

"I know."

There was a pause before he spoke again, "The duck was delicious and the chocolate souffle was decadent. You should have stayed. Dembe said - "

Liz hung up then picked up the pillow lying next to her before throwing it across the room. As she sat her phone back on the nightstand, she felt it vibrate but ignored the call and got up to retrieve her pillow before lying back down. The artificial blue-white light from the street lamps filled her bedroom and she groaned loudly. After hearing her phone vibrate again, she reached over and powered it down. A long hour later, she fell asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Punched - Chapter 3**

**Summary:** Liz gets those curtains.

**Notes:** Thanks again for all the comments. I apologize for not replying but work continues to be... well, work. Again, I appreciate the feedback and hope you let me know what you think of this chapter. The next chapter will be rated mature, and fic rating filters will have to be adjusted or you will not be able to see the story.

* * *

Liz managed to sleep until close to 8:00 the following morning, and decided to take a long hot bath rather than her usual quick shower after rising from bed. As she sunk into the cucumber and melon scented water, she thought of Red's words from the previous afternoon and envisioned the bathroom at the county estate holding the marble soaker tub.

Her thoughts then went to his description of the silk pajamas, and she felt her body tense at the thought of him selecting sleep attire for her. She then grew conflicted as she replayed the events, finally questioning his intentions for calling her there. She remembered his small smile when he had hung up the phone, and the way he had sat on the couch - open, with his arm draped across the back of the sofa. She repeated his phrases over and over, "... they match your eyes perfectly and will feel incredibly sensuous as they move across your skin… you're having dinner with me, Lizzie… think of this as a short country holiday… time away from the hustle and bustle of city life… they match your eyes perfectly… sensuous as they move across your skin… sensuous… skin."

The moment she realized what she was doing, fixating on Raymond Reddington, she took a deep breath and sunk under the water blowing the air out her nose before surfacing. Liz then refocused on the tasks she wanted to complete over the next few hours.

After dressing in jeans and a comfortable sweater, she applied minimal makeup and put her hair in a sloppy ponytail. Liz then sorted through her stack of laundry; finally deciding to take most of it to the cleaners on her way to the mall rather than suffer through the chore herself. She made the final choice on drapery within ten minutes of arriving at Pottery Barn, and purchased the necessary hardware before eating the lunch she had been craving for days. The dessert of key lime cheesecake had proven more delicious than she remembered and she savored every bite.

When she was back home, she spent a couple of hours scrubbing away at her apartment before beginning the task of hanging the curtains, which proved to be far easier than she had anticipated. With all of her domestic chores finished by 6:00, she reveled in her shiny clean apartment and decided it was time to check her phone.

She had three messages. The first was from the previous night and referenced her hanging up on Red as he described dinner. "Lizzie. Manners, sweetheart, manners." The second voicemail was left a few seconds after the first. "I'm sorry you're upset with me. Perhaps we should consult with one of the FBI's counselors regarding our issues, or better yet, I have a dear psychologist friend in Austria who specializes in - ." Liz deleted the second message without bothering to listen to the rest of the voice mail, then quickly played the third from 1:10 that afternoon. "Lizzie, I've been in contact with Aric and he's available for a session next Thursday at 3:00. Of course, we will have to fly out the night before to make the appointment. Do you have a passport? If not, I can rummage up some papers - ." Liz abruptly deleted the third message as well. It was obvious Red wasn't taking their conversation from the previous day seriously and it hurt as much as annoyed her.

She grabbed a jacket and her purse before heading out the door. She walked the two blocks to the little bar that had the great fried mushrooms and ordered a glass of Merlot to accompany the appetizer. She was halfway through her second glass of wine when Dembe came through the front door. She sat back in her seat and sighed. After Dembe spotted her and looked over the establishment, he left only to be joined by Red a few seconds later.

Red approached wearing a dark green button up and jeans. There was no fedora in sight, and she was surprised at his casual dress. She watched his approach carefully, already forming the words that would allow her a quick exit.

"Hello, Lizzie. May I join you?"

"No."

He raised his eyebrows.

"No, you may not join me."

"Lizzie."

As he began to bend, before attempting to sit next to her in the booth, she put up her hand. "I said no. I want you to leave me alone. I need some time. A break."

"We need to talk."

She closed her eyes then picked up her purse, finding her wallet and selecting bills to cover the total and tip before sliding out of the booth. "We can speak on Monday."

"Lizzie, that's enough. You're being - "

She moved to her full height, still several inches shorter than him in her flat sneakers, and interrupted him. "Don't say it. Don't you dare tell me I'm being immature, or unreasonable, or whatever the hell was about to come out of your mouth."

As she took a step forward their thighs bumped forcing her to move back slightly. She then noticed the small bruise and scrape on his cheekbone, and frowned wondering if the mark hurt as badly as the knuckle of her index finger.

She stood still as she continued staring at the injury and felt ashamed. When he grasped her hand, Liz dropped her gaze watching as he moved her hand up between them. He brushed his thumb over her bruised knuckle then brought his hand to her mouth, kissing the contusion softly. As his lips lingered, she closed her eyes; the warmth and moisture of his breath seeping into her skin. Her traitorous mind sped, and she thought she was near the point of accepting any treatment from him as long as he promised he would continue to touch her.

As he let go of her hand, she pushed her eyelids up and found him looking at her with a twinkle in his eye and a smug grin on his lips. He knew exactly what he was doing, the effect he had on her, and she felt vulnerable. If he cared about her at all, he wouldn't be this self-satisfied with her reaction.

Liz dropped her eyes to his mouth as she formed her words. "You win, Red. We both knew it would only be a matter of time before you succeeded in this - beating me, wearing down my resolve, invading my very being."

When his lips flattened out, the smile gone, she met his eyes. As the tears filled hers, she spoke again, "It pleases you, the power you hold over me."

His reply was just above a whisper. "No." A short pause then, "No, Lizzie."

She dropped her chin and looked down at Red's hand at his side; watching as he tapped his fingers slowly against his thigh. She then shrugged her shoulders and said, "I don't know what it is you want from me. I do this job. It's my life. But it's not enough for you somehow, and I don't know what else I have to give. Sometimes I think it might be as simple as fulfilling a sexual conquest on your part, that you want me simply because I'm here and because I serve as some sort of challenge."

Liz stroked her scar before pushing her hands down to her sides and continuing, "But when I lay things out in my mind, I realize that explanation is probably just my wishful thinking. At least until you take hold of my elbow or place your hand at the small of my back, and I find myself starting to hope again; because then I have a reason to pretend you're the one touching me when I touch myself late at night." She gave a short pained laugh. "How's that for a twisted mind? Imaging a man I briefly thought might be my biological father as my lover."

As the tears finally slipped passed her lashes, she brought her head back up and wiped at her face with the back of her hand before looking him in the eye. "Just tell me what you want and I'll do my best to fulfill whatever it is you want me to be. But I'm telling you again, you have to treat me with respect... because I can't go on feeling this worthless." She paused then said, "And if you can't find it in yourself to do that, I won't continue."

Liz watched the two deep long swallows in his throat and waited for him to speak. When he stared at her blankly in response, Liz felt heat in her cheeks, embarrassed at her admission seconds ago, and wondered why in the hell she said those words out loud. She then glanced around the room, noticing for the first time they had drawn the attention of the handful of guests and wait staff.

"I'm going to go." She glanced at his bruised cheek. "And again, I am sorry for hitting you."

As she walked past him, her eyes fell on Dembe who sat at the bar sipping on a beer carefully watching the front entrance as well as Red. When she walked out the door, the bell hanging from the ceiling clanged loudly signaling her departure. The evening was cool and it was dark outside, the streets empty. She zipped up her jacket as she walked by Red's Mercedes, lost in thought, not noticing the van that sat idling at the curb up the street. As she neared the vehicle, she heard loud music thumping from the speakers and the sound pulled her from her reverie. When the window began rolling down, she turned to look inside and was met with a revolver aimed at her head. She took a step back, then another before seeing Gina Zanetakos' face subtly lit by the green dash lights.

Liz reached for her weapon, but her jacket and sweater got in the way so she crouched down and began sliding along the side of the van. As she turned her head back toward the bar, she heard the van door screech open in a rush. The second she made it to the back of the van, Gina appeared firing two shots in her direction. Time seemed to slow as Liz stepped behind the van and dug at her side for her Glock. As her fingers made contact with her holster, she heard Dembe's shout to get down. She dropped to the asphalt as more gunfire rang out. When she finally pulled her gun, she shot toward the sidewalk aiming under the van at Gina's legs. Liz's second shot tore through Gina's calf sending the blonde to the ground in a loud grunt.

As Liz straightened, she saw Dembe's run slow to a walk. His gun was drawn and trained on Gina but she could tell from his stride that he felt the situation was under control. Liz peered around the van seeing Gina lying on her side grabbing at her leg.

When Dembe reached Liz he said, "She's out of ammo."

Liz nodded and walked to Gina, kicking the revolver out of her reach before patting her down to ensure she didn't have another weapon. Liz knew it was her duty to apply first aid, but she stood and stepped back, leaning against the brick wall. She then reached for her cell and dialed Cooper as Red came from the opposite direction. It took her a second before she realized he had circled around, appearing from the back alley. As his wide eyes made contact with hers, Cooper answered and Liz looked away.

* * *

_**Note on the upcoming Chapter 4: **The next chapter will be the last and I'll be bumping it up to a mature rating, so if you want to read it, you will have to change the fic rating filter or you won't be able to see the story._


	4. Chapter 4

**Punched - Chapter 4**

**Summary:** Liz gets her way with Red.

**Author's Note: **I've had this chapter written for weeks, but kept questioning if I should post or not as mature rated fics are tricky. I had intended for this to be the last chapter, but the scenes are actually quite long and decided it best to separate in two chapters. For those of you who decide to stick around for Chapter 5, Red will get his turn.

* * *

Five hours later, Liz exited the elevator and began making her way down the long dim hallway to her apartment. At first, she thought the man standing in the shadows outside her door was her neighbor from across the hall, but concluded it was Red when she saw his head tilt to the side. She felt a strong sense of embarrassment after their conversation in the bar, and Liz channeled anger in order to hide behind a mask of irritation.

She spoke in a quiet harsh tone once she reached him. "What are you doing here?"

"Waiting on you, clearly." He stepped closer to her before pursing his lips. "I know the FBI moves slowly, but seriously Lizzie, it's not like you killed the woman. They couldn't have let you go earlier?"

She shook her head, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "For some reason my boss didn't entirely believe me when I told him I shot my ex-husband's lover out of self-defense."

Red gave her a nod. "Imagine that."

As Liz began digging in her purse for her keys, she remembered the more casual clothes he had worn earlier and wondered why he was now dressed in his typical suit. She pushed that question aside and continued with her earlier train of thought. "And I had to wait for Cooper to watch the video from the traffic light at the corner. Then Meera grilled me for over an hour as to why I had met with you in the bar. It seems all the witnesses were only too happy to share how upset I was by our conversation. "

Liz jammed the key into the deadbolt then turned the lock before twisting the knob, and shoving the door open with a violence she usually reserved for far more serious situations. She caught the door as it bounced back off the door guard then dropped her keys back into her purse. As she entered her apartment, she felt Red at her heels in what she assumed was an attempt to keep from being locked out.

She sat her purse on the narrow entry table and said, "I can't believe you didn't show yourself in."

"I didn't think that action would show the appropriate amount of respect."

Liz turned on him quickly, true anger biting at her immediately, but she faltered when she found his expression sincere. She asked, "What do you want?"

Red slowly placed his hands in his pockets. "To make sure you're okay."

Liz studied him for a moment then said, "I'm good. There's one less person walking the streets that wants me dead. Now, get the hell out."

His reply was curt and he stood firm. "No, Lizzie."

She felt her frown deepen and walked forward to turn on a lamp in the living room. "Go away, Red. I don't have the energy to deal with you right now. I've had a hell of a night. I'll talk to you on Monday."

"You're not fine. An attempt was made on your life."

Liz turned back to him abruptly. "You know the sad part? It seems I've grown used to people trying to kill me, and it really doesn't upset me all that much anymore. You know what does upset me? You."

He jutted out his jaw before speaking, "And that's the other reason I'm here."

"Don't. Just don't. Not now. I realize I opened the door to this conversation, but I'm tired. You've done the noble thing by showing up here, but it's not necessary. We can talk on Monday. Now, leave!"

Red didn't move, his eyes studying hers as his chin dropped ever so slightly. "I'm not leaving until we discuss - "

Liz stomped her foot interrupting him, her face showing the fury she felt. "What I need more than anything right now is twenty-four hours without you in my life." She sucked in an angry breath. "I want to be alone."

Red's face became concerned and contemplative. "Lizzie, alone is the last thing you should be."

She curled her right hand into a tight fist, and Red dropped his gaze to her hand before he focused on her denim clad thighs. After a moment of pause, he ever so slowly moved his eyes up her body with his head tilted down in a heavy lidded leer.

Liz froze, her body instantly responding. There was no way anyone could mistake his look of undiluted lust. She felt an equal amount of fear, excitement, and relief. After his lack of response to her words at the bar a few hours earlier, she had come to the conclusion that Red had no sexual interest in her whatsoever. She now knew he wanted her, and she didn't care if it was for anything other than this single night. Liz thought to herself, "One time. Use him and get him out of your thoughts."

A few seconds later, Red blinked and his face smoothed becoming unreadable. Liz took one step forward and then another before he said, "How about we chat over tea? You do have tea, I presume?"

Liz released her fist and shook her head in confusion. "Tea? What?"

Red looked amused, his lips turning up. "I do know you're aware of what tea is, Lizzie. You had a cup in your hand all last winter. I believe your preference to be green with two cubes of sugar."

She took the final step forward and grabbed his tie, the knuckles of her fingers pressing firmly into his sternum. Liz stared into his eyes then stood on her tiptoes, and said, "I don't want tea," before aggressively pushing her mouth against his.

A few seconds later, he took hold of her upper arms and pushed her away. "Elizabeth, you don't really want this."

Liz hissed, "Shut the hell up! I am so sick of you. You came into my life and destroyed... everything." She wrapped her hand around his tie before pulling the silk hard, causing his body to bend in an awkward angle toward her own. "You tell me nothing. Only what you believe I don't want."

The volume of his voice dropped, his eyes steady, "Lizzie, you need to calm - "

Liz shook her head then jerked his tie, thereby cutting of his words, before dragging him through the living room, down the hall, and into the bedroom.

Once she crossed the threshold, she began to reach for the bedside lamp, but thought it best not to let go of him. The room was near pitch black thanks to those beautiful curtains, and part of her wanted light so she could read his reactions while another part was desperately afraid of what she might see.

Liz toed off her tennis shoes then let go of his tie before sliding her hand down to find the buttons on his vest. Her hands trembled, but her fingers moved deftly despite the array of emotion raging through her body.

After the last button was unfastened, Red's hands found hers. His voice was deep and sounded a little shaky, which took her by surprise. "You don't really want this."

She looked up, her eyes having finally adjusted to the dark room. Though she couldn't make out his expression, she could see his shadowed features. Her reply was high pitched. "I need this. I need to feel something different." She balled up the material of his shirt under her hands. "I have to stop thinking about you at nearly every waking moment, and this is the only way I know how."

Liz tugged on his tie again, pulling his head down, whimpering once her lips made contact with his. She pressed into him as he began to finally respond, his mouth open and hot causing a shiver to run down her spine. And just as suddenly as his tongue stroked against her own, his hands moving her sweater up to touch her bare back, he pushed her away again. "Elizabeth, wait - "

She covered his mouth with her hand silencing his protest. "Just this one time, Red. Please. I don't ask for much. Give me this." Liz knew she was begging and it made her feel hollow.

As he placed his hands at her waist, he kissed the fingers she continued to press against his lips. The moment she dropped her hand, he bent his head down and allowed her to take his mouth the way she had wanted to do, the way she had been trying to do. She hummed the moment she felt the shift in his body; he had given in entirely and the realization of finally getting her way with him made her feel elated.

Liz pulled the tail of his shirt from his pants and began unfastening the buttons from the bottom up. Once the top of his tie stopped her progress, she broke the kiss and whispered, "Take off your tie."

She felt a loss the moment his hands left her waist, and she listened to his quiet breathing as his hands began to work. Liz stepped back slightly, and pulled her sweater over her head before removing her jeans in record time. The second she heard the rasp of his tie sliding through his collar to the floor, she found his wrists and unfastened his cufflinks in order to push his shirt over his shoulders.

Liz followed his shirt down to his elbows as it joined the pile of clothing on the floor then brought her hands slowly back up, kneading the lean muscle of his biceps and shoulders. She watched Red drop his chin and heard his slow exhale as she touched him. After moving her hands down his cotton clad chest and stomach, she tugged his undershirt out of his pants and pushed it up until Red pulled it over his head.

Her body was hungry for his skin, for his touch, but she moved slowly placing her fingers in the middle of his chest between his pectoral muscles. Liz breathed out at the same time he sucked in a breath then she flattened her hand against his skin while skimming her fingers through his soft chest hair.

When his fingers dug into the flesh at her hips, causing a twinge of pain, she dropped her hand to his belt and tugged him closer. Her mouth immediately went to his and the kiss was long, wet, and so mind meltingly good that she wasn't able to concentrate on anything other than her physical response.

Long seconds later, she found her hands acting on their own volition as they unfastened Red's belt. She cupped his hard length through his pants, causing him to jerk forward, their teeth clashing with her bottom lip caught in a painful pinch. Liz let out a small cry and Red moved his head back and placed both his hands on her face, a thumb gliding over her moist lower lip. "Sorry sweetheart, but you're playing wi - "

Liz made a hmpf sound, cutting him off, before saying, "Actually, I'm playing with hard steel. Now, if I only had handcuffs and glass walls around this bed, the setting would match the first dream I had of us together."

The strangled, "Lizzie," that came from his throat made her smile, and she quickly turned him toward the bed, pushing at him until the back of his knees hit the edge of the mattress.

She laid open mouthed kisses along his chest while making quick work of his pants, the material immediately falling to the floor. She felt Red's hands on her back, seeking the clasp of her bra, and she stilled with the exception of trailing her fingers from his navel to the top of his boxers. Once the bra was free, Liz let it slide off her shoulders and down her arms. She waited for him to touch her, but Red kept his hands on her ribcage, squeezing the flesh just below and to the sides of her breasts. He pulled his head back just far enough to follow the line of her jaw toward her ear, leaving a trail of hot breath against her skin. When his thumbs slipped under the edge of her panties, she helped him push them down before kicking them away.

The fragrance of her arousal filled the air between them, and Red instantly cupped her ass with both hands, dragging her body up the length of his before kissing her mouth with a fervor that left her panting. When Red slowly worked his way along her jaw and began sucking at the spot just below her ear, Liz realized he was gaining the upper hand and said, "Red, put me down," as she pushed against his shoulders.

After he loosened his grip and her feet were firmly planted on the floor, she shoved his underwear down before pushing him into a sitting position on the bed. Liz immediately bent and removed his shoes then pulled his pants and underwear over his feet. The second he was free of his clothing he slid back, and she watched his erection bob in the dark. She took a deep breath then crawled up his body, before sitting on his thighs and grinding herself against his leg, the heat of his skin and friction made her moan.

His response was filled with want. "Lizzie."

She wrapped her hand around him and felt his body tense. As she stroked him from base to tip, attempting to judge his girth and length, he covered her hand with his own. She made several more passes before he gripped her wrist, pulling her body up and pressing his hands onto her thighs, forcing her to sit on his lower abdomen. When his hands moved to her breasts, gently holding them as if he was trying to determine their weight, she gasped and mumbled, "Red."

Liz opened her eyes, struggling against the dark, wanting to see his hands on her and cursed herself for leaving the light off. She leaned forward and kissed him hungrily before moving her mouth to his ear and tracing the delicate cartilage with the tip of her tongue. She said, "I'm on birth control but I have condoms. I prefer we don't use them, but it's up to you."

After she spoke the words, she realized she used the plural form for the prophylactic and wondered what exactly her subconscious was up to.

He pushed her hair back and kissed her neck before mumbling, "Foreplay later then."

She was taken aback by his comment and wondered if she should be offended, but realized she really didn't care what he meant. She placed her hands on his chest, pushed up, and moved back, sinking down on him in one quick movement. They both moaned at the same time and Liz remained still, simply feeling him inside of her, hot and hard and deep. As the seconds beat on, her desire battled with her mind. She wanted to move, but was suddenly overwhelmed at the realization of her actions. This joining was no longer about primal need and the anger she felt at the inability to control her life, this moment was now about her feelings for him.

As her chest heaved, her breathing loud in the quiet room, Red reached up, firmly grasping her upper arms before pulling her down and placing both hands at the sides of her face. He said, "Elizabeth," as she closed her eyes against the tears and pushed a long breath out her mouth.

"Sweetheart, we can stop. We can stop at any time."

She curled her fingers into the muscle of his chest and slowed her breathing. "I don't want to stop. I just didn't think it was going to be like this."

Liz waited, expecting him to make a remark about his sexual prowess, but he remained silent as his thumbs gently stroked her cheeks. She leaned down further and found his mouth, the slow subdued kiss quickly becoming passionate, fueling the pull at her core. She pushed aside all thought and focused on the physical.

It quickly became more than a little rough, and it was fast, but it was incredible. He kept trying to pull her down to him in what she assumed were attempts to kiss her, and she kept pushing back on his chest until he somehow maneuvered them to where his upper back was leaning against the headboard. As a result, she couldn't keep away from his mouth and tried to slide and rock against him more quickly, but the moment his lips found the pulse point on her neck, her movement faltered and slowed. Her hands clasped his shoulders tightly, nails digging into his flesh, and his hand at the back of her head pulled her mouth to his and she felt her nipples rubbing against his chest. Her hips arched in a different angle with the push of his tongue, and he grunted into her mouth, his orgasm - pulse after pulse - triggering her own, making her clutch at him as she said his name.

When she had returned to herself, he kissed her lips, coaxing her mouth open until she began to respond, slow and yielding. He flipped them over, and turned her onto her side. In the next moment, she felt the spare blanket from the bottom of the bed covering them and he pulled her tight against his chest, seemingly fine to ignore the now cool wet stickiness of great hard sex . She was exhausted and sated and pleased, but then felt afraid. She sounded tired and worried to her own ears. "Red, I..."

He cradled her closer, his arm draped around her, his hand resting at her breast. "Shhh. Sleep now, sweetheart. I want you to sleep."

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_Author's Note: If you decide to stick around for Chapter 5, Red will get his turn._


	5. Chapter 5

**Punched - Chapter 5**

**Summary:** Red's turn.

**Note:** Thank you to all those who left comments on Chapter 4. I would appreciate feedback on this chapter as well. As I've said before, writing intimate scenes is difficult. Chapter 6 will feature the morning after.

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When she woke, it was still dark and she was heavy and limp from deep sleep. She didn't move, not quite certain she was awake, but the hand tracing an irregular pattern on her abdomen then up to the underside of her breasts felt too real to be a dream. She quickly took stock of her own hands to make sure she wasn't touching herself in the way she seemed to frequently do as of late.

She inhaled a deep breath as a fingertip pressed into her navel, suddenly remembering Red as he moved beside her. The feel of his barely there beard pressing against her shoulder made her shiver, and she felt him smile against her skin before his tongue sought out the tender spot under her earlobe.

Liz thought of protesting, quite certain it was in her best emotional interest not to let him proceed, but she couldn't seem to form the will or the words to stop him. Instead, she gave in to the pleasure of Raymond Reddington's touch. As he traveled slowly down to the curve of her breast, he covered every inch of her skin with his mouth and she let out a contented sigh.

She felt his fingertips dance across her ribs as his voice quietly rumbled between her breasts. "You taste like spring, Elizabeth - light and crisp, almost but not quite sweet, sunshine fresh." As his mouth skated across her chest, his tone dropped lower. "And you feel - God, you feel so..."

When his lips closed over her soft nipple quickly making it taught, she whispered his name and reached for him, but Red's hands grabbed hers and pushed them back down to the mattress.

He spoke low, his voice honey thick. "It's my turn now, and I happen to enjoy a good deal of foreplay." He nibbled at her breast before moving to the other, and latching on to that nipple. She arched her back in response and gripped the sheet with both hands.

Red didn't hurry. And contrary to what she had experienced earlier, he wasn't silent. She lost herself in his words of adoration that usually accompanied her complete forename, and in the sounds he made. His soft gravely moans and hums of pleasure were made each time he found a part of her body that seemed to enthrall him, and he soon had her in a near hypnotic trance from the sound of his incredible voice.

At one point, she tried to define the noises he made, but could only come up with "Red" and "very male" before smiling to herself and becoming lost in his touch again - the feel of his stubbled chin pressing into the side of her knee, his fingers circling around the instep of her foot, his hands cupping her breasts, the long line of open mouthed kisses he placed along the inside of her arm, stopping and sucking gently once he reached her scar. Every time she tried to concentrate on what this night would mean in the light of day, he shifted and began devoting attention somewhere else, distracting her.

When he spread her legs wider, lowering his head, he finally allowed her to touch him, but by that point all she could do was reach for the side of his head. He pleasured her for what felt like an eternity using gentle suction, lips, and tongue. And though it was difficult to concentrate, she felt his fingers reaching and pressing until he found the bundle of tissue inside and to her front that had always proven to be promising but elusive. As quickly as she felt an intense pressure as a result of his touch, he removed his hand and all she could feel was his mouth. She thought of voicing her disappointment, but guilt held her back as he was quickly proving to be the most generous and skilled lover she had known. Seconds later, he let her come and she was drowned in the sensation of the tight string pulling her along into ecstasy.

As he began to kiss her face and whisper her name, he turned her to her side and spooned behind her, pushing her top leg up and away with his own so he could settle one of his legs between the two of hers. She felt the soft prickle of his hair against her back and along her calf as he pulled her closer, his mouth resting against her shoulder. She felt his smile and could see his smug grin in her mind's eye. She attempted to muster aggravation at his arrogance but found herself smiling in turn. Liz tried to memorize the soft yet strong feel of his chest against her back, but the rigid hard length of him pressing into her backside held more interest. She moved her leg farther forward, giving him easy access but he didn't move and continued to hold her as if that was the only thing that mattered to him.

She finally asked, "Red?"

He kissed her shoulder, his lips lingering. "You are perfect, Lizzie. Absolute perfection. I only wish there was light, I've got the feel and taste of you memorized but I would like the images for accompaniment."

Liz's mind took off in a dead run, not at his words but at the tone he used, and she felt herself hoping that he wanted more than this night with her.

A moment later, she felt him pressing into her again and she placed her hand on his hip and said, "Red, go. Please."

He kissed her shoulder then slipped down the bed a bit, moving his hips forward and upward as Liz reached to guide him into her body. She only expected a few quick thrusts, just enough for him to finish, but he set a rhythm that was slow and deliberate. As his hand moved across her skin, cupping her breast and squeezing her nipple, he quietly spoke her name, and she angled her head around to kiss him. After long minutes, she soon felt that build toward bliss again and couldn't suppress a moan.

"Are you close, Lizzie?"

Her yes was breathless and his quick grasp of her hip, moving her to change the angle, made her sharply inhale; his weight rested more firmly on her, his body pressing her into the mattress. The pressure she had felt earlier when he touched the same bundle with his fingers was back, but this time it was incredible and verged on uncomfortable.

"God. Red. That... I can't."

His arm wrapped tightly around her midsection and he spoke into her ear. "I've got you. It's okay. Just feel."

Liz gripped his thigh as he moved, and bit the pillow case under her face in attempt to maintain some semblance of control. She was spiraling and the soft sounds that were escaping through her lips sounded nothing short of primitive.

Red kissed the juncture at her neck and shoulder and whispered, "Elizabeth, let go. Don't hold back. Not with me. Never with me."

She turned her head toward him, her eyelids burning, her skin covered in a sheen of sweat, before finally getting out, "Harder. Red… I..."

He tilted her hips again, and pushed himself up on his elbow and Liz came undone three thrusts later. She was unsure of what happened next, or during the next minute or so after as her body absorbed wave after wave of pleasure.

After her breathing returned to normal, she sighed, and Red rolled her to her back before settling on top of her. "If I were a gentleman, Lizzie, I would let you be, but I want release and I want it to be inside of you."

Liz reached up with a weak arm and cupped the back of his neck, pulling him into a kiss that was tender and loving. "Yes."

She felt his hand move to guide himself into her, and the sensation she felt as he began to rock made her completely spent body quiver. It didn't take long before she felt his deep shudders and heard his soft grunts. He dropped on top of her, and Liz managed to trail her hands along his sides. She wanted to give him more, but it was taking everything she had to stay conscious.

Red turned them to their sides, and Liz settled her face into the spot between his neck and shoulder. In attempt to stave off slumber, she kissed his chest, his hair tickling her lips causing her to smile.

Liz asked, "Tell me something. When you mentioned the g-spot all those months ago, did you know this is where we would end up one day?"

His chuckle was deep and throaty and it took him a second to answer. "No, Lizzie. Not exactly."

"I was appalled at the time."

She could hear the smile in his tone. "You were surprised, not appalled."

"Well, that's not a topic of polite conversation. Especially between two people of the opposite sex who aren't intimately involved."

"But it made you wonder, didn't it? Just like your confession to me a few hours ago - "

Liz interrupted. "My confession was much more... obvious. Yours was... not."

As Red began to stroke her back with long lazy glides of his hand, she kissed his chin, before settling back into the delicious crook of his neck.

His tone was different the next time he spoke and she thought she heard doubt in his voice, a feeling she didn't think Raymond Reddington knew. "I would like to think I lived up to the fantasy."

Liz closed her eyes and felt her eyelashes wisp across his skin. She kissed the front of his neck, near his Adam's Apple, and tried to make her voice light and airy but the words ended up sounding far too serious. "I'll never want anyone else."

His hand stilled and Liz outwardly cringed, her brain racing forward knowing he was about to tell her this could never happen again. She felt the burn of tears and became angry with herself.

Before he replied, she quickly said, "It's okay. I said one time. You have no obligations in this."

When his fingers tilted her chin up and he kissed her with slow sweeps of his tongue, she felt her body relax despite the pain and uneasiness she felt.

He kissed the sides of her mouth then cradled her head, placing it back on his shoulder. "We'll talk later - after both of us have had proper rest."

Liz closed her eyes and concentrated on his arm circling her, his hand stroking her hair. She felt the rise and fall of his chest against the tip of her nose before quickly giving in to sleep.

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_Note: Chapter 6 will feature the morning after. _


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